92 



THE AMERICAN MOOSE 



and looking in our direction, while his companioa 

 took another course, but keeping for some time ia 

 view. My moose made one or two short runs, and 

 finally disappeared in the thicket and scattered 

 timber which formed the background of the 

 picture. 



The sun would set in another half hour. It was 

 slow work crossing the bog and the sluggish 

 stream which lay between us and the trail of the 

 wounded moose, and it was still slower work 

 tracking on the bare ground by the aid of scattered 

 drops of blood. The trail of blood led us half or 

 three-quarters of a mile. The moon, which was 

 nearly full, contributed more light than the sun, 

 which was already below the horizon, when we 

 finally came upon my moose lying down. He 

 got upon his feet, but only to receive the coup 

 de grace. The previous shot had hit low in the 

 hind-quarters, but he had suffered no broken 

 bones. 



We discussed that unexpected movement, when, 

 after the first shot, the two animals ran toward 

 us, and agreed that their dim eyesight had shown 

 them merely two unidentified figures, moving on 

 the open bog. They stood at attention, looking 

 toward the dark moving objects, when the first 

 bullet probably struck a rock behind them, toward 



